


Sacrifice

by Aluxra



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Book and Movie, Gen, I should stop posting stories at 4am, Loads of Angst, Mixed verse, This is ridiculous, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 19:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aluxra/pseuds/Aluxra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sacrifice isn't really a sacrifice if you don't know what you're giving up, and when you're making deals, be careful with how word them - you may get more than what you've bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this may look a bit confusing but I'll explain: this is an excerpt that I have written that is intended to be part of a much bigger story that I am planning to write. The plan is already laid out, and I have an outline for the chapters and the plot as a whole but it may not see the light of day for a while because I have to get back to my actual studies at University.
> 
> Everything in italics at the beginning is basically a condensed summary of the story leading up to this scene. It should be easy enough to follow, the first half is spoken by only the one character (an OC) while the second half is dialogue between that character and Pitch Black. There are a number of OCs mentioned throughout this excerpt but they don't distract from the main characters.

_Fine, I’ll stop taking the children’s spirits._

_For now._

_I’ll give you the chance to balance the world again but, you have to give me something in return. To make the deal fair: for every day that passes and you don’t find a replacement for Mother Goose or a solution to balance, I take a memory from each of you. You have until the winter solstice before your memories run out, and I collect every spirit from every child across the globe, whether they believe or not._

_Oh, don’t worry: you’ll get them back - if you succeed. If not, well, you’ll be nothing but hollow shells, wandering forever - unseen, unheard, wondering why you are invisible to everyone except each other but clueless about who you are. Not believed in, but not disbelieved in: without their spirits, children will be completely indifferent: a completely perfect balance in the world of dark and light through true neutrality. Doesn’t that sound lovely?_

* * *

_You want to rehash the deal? Why? What could you give me in return?_

_My memories – you haven’t touched them. I haven’t forgotten anything._

_Oh, but you have Pitch Black. I assure you, you have. Your time as the Bogeyman doesn’t interest me; I have no interest in your memories. Not the one’s you have anyway._

_So what about the one’s I don’t have? Surely with all your power you’d be able to acquire them with ease from my mind._

_There’s a condition that needs to be met: someone was smart enough to protect them with extremely powerful magic._

_Why would anyone want to protect the forgotten memories of the Bogeyman?_

_Who knows? Someone thought they were important enough to keep even if you didn’t. Either way, the only way I can get them is if they are given up freely._

_Fine, I surrender them. I don’t remember so I’m not exactly going to miss them. In exchange, you give everyone their memories back permanently._

_I need one more thing: just a little extra to sweeten the pot – everyone gets their memories back, and I get to go back and start collecting the children’s spirits again. You’d have to hurry up, then, because if I get them all, it won’t matter what you’ve done – you’ll still be invisible._

_Deal. Shall we get on with it?_

_No... I’ll wait. I’m in no rush: I’ll collect your memories at midnight, tomorrow night._

_You have to make good on your end of the bargain, first. Everyone gets their memories back, immediately._

_Agreed. Everyone gets their memories back permanently, and I’ll collect yours at midnight. All we have to do is shake on it and the deal will come into effect... immediately._

* * *

The Burgess Grand Hotel was busy that night: a wedding was holding its reception in the ground floor ballroom in the later hours, a beautiful room with patterned floors that shone like gold and tall pillars wrapped in ivy. A band was performing on stage behind the main table while the guests danced on the large, golden dance floor in the centre of the room, unaware that they were joined by a dozen or so legends milling around the place, occupying the empty floor space they could to avoid being walked through, chatting and laughing and commenting on the festivities. Their reason for being there was currently working behind the bar: it seemed her nickname “Fairy-Tale”* was even used in her place of work, and the platinum blonde still remained oblivious to their presence, despite how much she wavered under Jamie and the other kid’s persistence.

She looked distracted now, wiping down the bar with a faraway look on her face: it wasn’t until Darcy rapped on the wood that her attention returned, and they carried on working, moving boxes of glasses and empty bottles through to the kitchens, serving customers and mingling with the guests.

Jack lay sprawled along the top of the bar, resting his head on one hand propped up on the elbow, looking bored. He flinched every so often when people’s hands passed through him, reaching for drinks or leaning on it as they conversed. Sandman sat with him, resting against his side as he watched both the people and the spirits in the ballroom.

Tooth and Lady Luck flitted around the room together, dancing to the music and remarking on the dresses and the jewellery the women wore: Bunny and Cupid watched them from their seats beside the speakers, muttering between them about women and how they were impossible to understand. The Leprechaun* and Jack O’Lantern had snuck behind the bar a while ago, trying to get a drink to no avail. The Seasons* and the Elements* stayed close to Mother Nature, who had occupied one of the seats lined up along the walls, looking quite glum.

Others were scattered between the tables, trying to cause mischief on the adults and entertaining the children, who watched them with fascination, especially North as he wandered around the guests. They were all relieved – ecstatic – that their memories had returned, and were trying to figure out how it happened. No one noticed Pitch entering until he stood in front of Jack and Sandy, looking slightly dazed but otherwise the same Pitch he’d been yesterday.

‘Hey Pitch,’ Jack greeted over the music. Sandy just waved. ‘Where have you been?’

‘Making deals,’ he answered truthfully. ‘I suggest the five of you regroup and meet me outside for the information you desire.’

‘Pitch, what did you do?’ Jack demanded, already on alert from the moment he mentioned deals. Pitch just glared at him witheringly.

‘ _Outside_ , Frost.’ He pivoted on one foot and stalked back out the door without a backward glance. Jack and Sandy shared a look between them, before quickly leaping off the bar and rushing over to the other Guardians to drag them off to see Pitch.

They were in the hotel foyer in less than sixty seconds, tense and close to drawing their weapons. Pitch saw how antsy they were and couldn’t help but roll his eyes in exasperation.

‘Could you not look like you’re all going to jump at the first shadow you see?’ he demanded snappishly, clasping his hands behind his back as he turned to face them. ‘It makes you look untrained and skittish.’

‘You said you made a deal, Pitch!’ Tooth argued. ‘What are we supposed to think? You going behind everyone’s backs –’

‘You were all close to becoming empty shells of the Spirits you are, forgive me if I took matters into my own hands to correct the matter, given that no one else was in a stable enough state of mind to do it themselves,’ he interrupted, shooting her down abruptly with a razor sharp tone. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he looked the Guardians in the eye before continuing. ‘I made a deal, yes, in order to get your memories back permanently. In exchange he would get mine.’

‘But, you...’ Jack started, confused.

‘Not the memories I have as the Bogeyman,’ Pitch explained as patiently as he could. ‘The memories I have apparently forgotten, which for some reason interests him more.’

The reaction of the older Guardians - particularly Sandman – was one of horrified understanding.

‘Pitch...’ North whispered, his shoulders sagging as if a great weight had been placed on them.

‘Aw, mate,’ Bunny sighed, shaking his head sadly. Sandman had no image to respond with, nothing that could sum up what he wished to say. Jack and Tooth looked equally shocked, both for the same reason in regards to the preservation of memories. Pitch waved them off disinterestedly, as if the matter was a menial one.

‘I don’t remember, so it is hardly a loss,’ he reasoned. ‘Which is probably why he made an extra addition to favour his side of the bargain: he’s collecting the spirits of children again, and if we don’t get this new Mother Goose to see us and accept becoming a Guardian, we are all doomed.’

‘So,’ he continued. ‘I suggest we wait until she finishes her work, when she is alone and force her to believe one way or another: the imagination is easier to access when one is alone at night. I don’t care if I have to set every Fearling and Nightmare I have inside me on her to make her believe, we have no more time to waste.’

‘The kids can talk to her again,’ Jack suggested. ‘Maybe with the combination of playing on her imagination and their reasoning can finally make her see us.’

‘The children haven’t been able to get through to her up till now,’ Pitch stated scathingly. ‘I doubt another attempt will make any difference.’

‘It might if you go scaring her half to death,’ Bunny interrupted, crossing his arms in front of his chest. ‘You’d need something to balance it. That’s what got us into this bloody mess in the first place, everyone pulling too hard one way or the other.’

‘Fine,’ Pitch conceded. ‘We can try, but I am not too hopeful about the outcome.’

‘You don’t have to be,’ Bunny smirked. ‘That’s my job.’

‘Until then, we can’t do anything except wait until she finishes her work,’ Pitch stated. ‘We’ll have to wait, or find a way to make her leave this place early.’

‘Best just keep an eye on her for now,’ Tooth suggested. ‘Try talking to her, even if she can’t hear – it might just alter her mood or her thoughts, like before but it’s better than nothing.’

‘Either way, we best return inside,’ Pitch replied. ‘If you wish to join in the celebrations, I suggest you do so before the end of the night, you won’t get another chance to relax after that until we’re out of danger.’

‘Sounds about right,’ Jack frowned, sighing as they all turned to re enter the ballroom, the older Guardians looking downcast and weary. ‘I’m sorry about your memories though, even if you can’t remember them. Is there no way... I mean, if we win...?’

Pitch stared at Jack silently, as if studying him, before replying quietly: ‘The conditions of the deal were absolute. It will be impossible to get them back, even if I wanted them.’

‘But, _why_?’ Jack demanded, his voice straining at the question. Pitch stopped just outside the door the others had stepped through, and Jack paused, looking up at him with sad eyes. ‘Why would you do that, even if you don’t remember them, they’re still yours and... and...’

‘I understand your bewilderment at my decision, given your own experiences with forgotten memories,’ he said soothingly, as if he was comforting a small child. ‘However, unlike you, I did not have to endure the distress and confusion of not knowing my purpose or why I was made the way I am. I have always known I am the Bogeyman, I have always known I am Pitch Black. Any forgotten memories hold no interest to me.’

‘But, they were from... from before,’ Jack whispered. ‘Which means you were someone, you had a life before all this, before Pitch Black-?’

‘It is completely gone, Jack,’ he replied. ‘I’ve been around for a long, long time: any traces of a life I might’ve had will have disappeared centuries ago.

He smirked, a dark chuckle escaping his lips as he shook his head. ‘I don’t know why everyone is reacting like this: the memories are meaningless now, and will not be missed since I don’t remember them. Now, are you coming in?’

Jack nodded sadly, his head dropping as his eyes watered. Pitch lightly scratched his head, mussing his hair. ‘Dry your eyes, Frost, you don’t need icicles hanging from your chin.’

He disappeared through the double doors, and Jack followed, quickly wiping his face with the cuffs of his hoodie. Entering the room, he was quickly tapped on the shoulder by Summer*, who smiled sweetly at him.

‘Can you dance with me, Jack?’ she asked, and he looked over to the dance floor to see it clearing of people, and the Spirits were stepping onto it so they could have a dance in peace without the discomfort of being phased through by dozens of people at the same time – after all, it was a wedding, they might as well have one dance. A celebration on having their memories returned to them before facing the oncoming storm once more.

He smiled back at her, nodding as he rested his staff against the wall and held out an arm. ‘Of course, my lady.’

She giggled, linking arms with him and allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor. Others had grabbed the Guardians: Cupid was grinning ear to ear with Tooth in his arms, and Jack laughed at Bunny’s terrified expression as Lady Luck held onto him, looking like the cat that got the cream. The Elements and the other Seasons all partnered up – Spring* and Autumn* grabbing the Leprechaun and North respectively, all laughing and joking as the band warmed up.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m sure you’re all having a fantastic evening tonight. It’s been an honour performing for you and the stunning bride tonight, who would now like to share a very special dance with the _other_ man in her life, her father.’

The first few bars of the song played, and the bride stood and approached her father, who looked like the proudest man on earth as he accepted her hand and began to dance with her. Fairy-tale and Darcy watched, entranced from behind the bar as everyone began to waltz around the humans, invisible to them.

The lyrics began, and everyone jumped into dance with a partner until it seemed only Pitch had decided to remain on the edges of the dance floor. Watching the twirling figures, he glanced over to the far side of the room and catching the lone figure sitting slouched in the chair, looking unhappy.

‘Not dancing?’ he asked, stepping out of the shadows beside Mother Nature, who jumped at his sudden appearance. She scowled, unhappy at being snuck up on.

‘No,’ she replied shortly, folding her arms and looking away, blowing a stray, wild lock of black hair out of her eyes. Pitch laughed, holding his hand out in front of her in offering. She looked at it suspiciously, side eyeing him with a scornful glare. He merely smirked, meeting her gaze with a cold, golden stare.

‘Oh, don’t tell me you’re scared to dance with the Bogeyman?’ he taunted, grinning. ‘Or are you just scared of me?’

She glared up at him, grabbing his hand after a moment hesitation and following him onto the dance floor. Embracing in the standard dance hold, they began to move in time with everyone else, Mother Nature staring sullenly at the front of Pitch’s robes, not looking at him.

‘I’m not afraid of you,’ she snapped, and she felt him laugh lightly. ‘And I don’t take kindly to being manipulated into doing something I’d rather avoid.’

‘Oh I know,’ he mused, breathing in a sigh. ‘You’re just like your mother.’

She sucked in a breath, tensing in his arms and they stopped dancing: she looked up at Pitch’s face, and saw him smiling at her. Instead of a hard, golden glare she saw the loving warmth in buttercup yellow eyes, the soft curve of his smile that softened the sharp angles of his face and made him seem less frightening.

She tried to pull away in shock, but he held on, spinning her round before gently guiding her back into his arms.

‘Ah, ah, ah,’ he cautioned quietly in her ear. ‘Best not make a scene, darling. I need you to keep this a secret for me, okay Seraphina?’

Seraphina cleared her throat, gasping in shallow breaths as she clung to Pitch tightly, nearly hyperventilating as her father led her gently around the floor, mindful of the other spirits and the people rejoining the dance: all fathers and their little girls, some barely up to their knees, others almost adults themselves. He sighed, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

‘You’ve grown up,’ he sighed. ‘It seems like it happened so quickly, but I know it’s been centuries. Millennia, even...’

‘How?’ she choked out, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He felt her tears through his robe, and he gently hugged her surreptitiously, comforting.

‘Words can always be played with,’ he explained. ‘In return for my memories long forgotten, and the chance to continue collecting spirits again, everyone got their memories back. Everyone included me, as well, it seems.’

‘What do you mean, in return?’ she asked, terrified of the answer. Pitch hesitated, but could not hide the truth.

‘I will once again forget at the strike of twelve tonight,’ he explained, and he felt her sob against his chest. He closed his eyes, hating the pain he was causing her. ‘I am so sorry, Seraphina... for everything...’

‘Don’t do it,’ she begged, looking up at him with wide green eyes so much like her mother’s. ‘Don’t give up your memories, please. There’ll be another way to keep ours... we’ll find a way...’

‘Sera, Sera,’ he soothed, shaking his head. ‘You know it will be folly to even try.’

‘Why are you doing this? It’s like I’m going to lose you all over again,’ she cried quietly. ‘Why can’t you just not go through with it?’

‘Because I love you,’ he whispered. ‘I love you so much, and I took an oath to stand and protect those who fight against the darkness and evil in the universe. I care about you, all of you, who fight as I did so long ago and I cannot put any of you in danger. I will not let any of you come to harm if I can prevent it, even if it means sacrificing myself in the process. I would do anything to keep you safe, I always will.’

He sighed, taking a couple of calming breaths to steady himself. ‘So I need you to do something for me in return, okay Sera?’

She nodded, trying to stifle her sobs as she listened to her father.

‘I need you to remember, that no matter what happens, I love you. I always will, even if I don’t remember it. I need you to remember that I am proud of you, and that you will never be alone: you can always rely on the Guardians to help you – they are each great warriors and good men, and woman.’

‘You will never lose me, Seraphina,’ he stressed. ‘I will _always_ be here, as long as you remember. Remember for the both of us, and never doubt those memories – keep them with you for always, for all the years ahead of you; because you’ll live, Seraphina, a long, happy life surrounded by those who love you. Just as your mother and I always wished for you.’

He pulled back slightly, smiling at her a little sadly. ‘Keep my memory the same place you keep hers?’

‘You’re already there,’ she replied, as the final notes of the song faded out, and the dancers clapped and cheered for the performance, thanking their partners for the dance. Seraphina swallowed, composing herself before she stepped away from Pitch and smiled weakly. Pitch returned the smile, clapping along the others as he glanced up at the clock on the far wall near the door.

’11:45,’ he stated, glancing back at his daughter, trying to take in every detail he could, trying to commit it to a memory he’d never be able to keep. He couldn’t help it: seeing everyone through his eyes now, as a father, as a _Guardian_ was nothing like seeing them as the Bogeyman. He looked around, picking everyone out in the crowd before looking at Seraphina one more time, standing tall and proud like a true Pitchiner. ‘I’ll be back soon.’

‘No you won’t,’ she said, and if her lip trembled, if her eyes threatened to spill over with tears, neither of them said anything, because she gritted her teeth, and straightened her back, steeling herself for the inevitable. He nodded slightly, before disappearing into the crowd. She did not close her eyes, or look away as he went, watching him leave once again.

‘Hey, Mother Nature,’ Jack smiled kindly, coming up to her. ‘You enjoy the dance? Where’s your partner- are you alright?’

He reached out, gently resting his hand on her shoulder: she finally turned her vivid green gaze onto him, a cold determination burning deep within them.

‘This is going to end,’ she vowed. ‘I will not let that _creature_ get away with what he has done to us. He will pay for everything he has done to us, to the children, and to this world. And it will happen sooner than he thinks.’

 

 

Pitch stepped into the alleyway down the side of the hotel, hands calmly clasped behind his back as he walked under the pale moonlight, glancing up at the big, full face of it and smiling slightly. ‘Here we are again, old friend.’

‘How charming,’ a voice replied from behind him, and Pitch straightened, squaring his shoulders as he turned slowly on his heels, refusing to be spooked by the despicable creature in front of him. The magic-wielder sat, reclining on the low wall running down the other side of the alleyway, grinning at the Nightmare King. ‘Here we are, indeed, three of the oldest of our kind. Time does fly, doesn’t it? The memories you make are worth it though, aren’t they?’

He laughed as Pitch stood silent, glowering in disgust at the dark spirit, who smiled pleasantly back at him.

‘How were these last twenty four hours, hmm? You held on so well, until the very end, and you couldn’t help but get a closer look at everyone. You couldn’t help but speak with your Guardians, your daughter, one more time,’ he taunted. ‘You could’ve had an entire day with them, with her: why did you avoid them?’

‘I do not answer to you,’ Pitch replied coldly. ‘I have come here to settle a debt, and then I will have no more dealings with you lest it is upon a battlefield and the only talk is between blades.’

‘Ooh, sounds thrilling,’ he snickered, leaping down from the wall elegantly and strolling up to Pitch, halting a few feet away. ‘However, let’s not talk of bloodshed. What I’m curious about is: where were those elusive memories kept, that not even you could access them?’

Pitch glared at him, rigid as stone before he unclasped his hands and brought them up to his neck: taking hold of a long, thin gold chain, he pulled it up over his head and gathered it in one hand, the round gold locket nestled in the centre of the loops.

‘Ah, I do so love the little ironies of the universe, don’t you?’

Pitch sighed heavily, looking at the meticulous detail of the design, stroking the surface of it with his thumb. ‘I will kill you,’ he said calmly, looking back up with a stony resolve in pools of liquid gold. The dark spirit said nothing, raising his eyebrows in amiability.

‘I will not forgive this grievance that you have brought against me and my fellow legends,’ Pitch continued, a power behind his words the like of which none had heard before. ‘I shall never stop until you are destroyed, scoured from existence, and I will be the one to do it. This I swear, with the Man in the Moon as my witness-’

‘Hmm, see,’ he interrupted Pitch, holding up one hand to halt his speech. ‘I would be more impressed, and probably intimidated if we both weren’t aware that in the next few minutes you’ll lose any and all memories you have as... well, you. The memories of today will be seen through the eyes of the Bogeyman. You will know you danced with Mother Nature, but will have no recollection of your conversation; you won’t remember how you felt dancing with her, or what she looks like as seen through a father’s eyes. You won’t even remember her name unless you knew it as the Bogeyman as well.’

‘Then listen well, and remember Rumpelstiltskin,’ Pitch warned, illuminated by the bright moonlight, commanding respect and fear through his presence alone. ‘I am Kozmotis Pitchiner, Commander of the Golden Armies, honour bound by oath to serve and protect the worlds of this universe against those who threaten it. And when you take that from me, when you take my daughter, my comrades, my past: when you take all of who I am away from me, I will have nothing.’

‘I will have nothing left to lose. Nothing left to sacrifice, nothing for you to threaten me with, nothing holding me back from hunting you down. I will go to the very edges of the universe if I have to in search of you, and you will remember. For every minute, of every day, from now until the very end you will remember who I am. And you will know fear.’

Rumpelstiltskin, standing in the shadow of Kozmotis Pitchiner, was suddenly overcome by a feeling he had not felt in a long time. Standing there, wide eyed and dry mouthed, he looked upon a sight that had not been seen in millennia: before him was not the Bogeyman, he was not Pitch Black. No, this was the hero of the Golden Age, the leader of its strongest army: Kozmotis Pitchiner, the legendary General chosen by the Constellations themselves to fight against the rising dark. And he remembered fear.

‘I suppose the next we meet,’ he said, collecting himself in appearance despite the trembling weakness in his knees, holding out his hand to collect the locket. ‘It will be in battle.’

‘The next we meet,’ Pitch snarled, extending his arm with the locket still clasped tightly in his grip. ‘Your head will roll.’

The large town clock struck midnight, and the locket dropped from his grasp, and the world suddenly went dark for a moment: similar to standing up too quickly when your body wasn’t prepared for it. Stumbling against the wall, Pitch reached out to steady himself, rubbing his eyes weakly as he tried to focus.

Slowly, the world righted itself, and he looked around, realising he was alone in the alleyway: how had he gotten there? Why had he come here, especially alone? He recalled the plan he had hatched with the Guardians concerning the girl, and his absence from the group for most of the day but his thoughts and recollections were fuzzy, vague. He rubbed his head, wiping his eyes with the heel of his palms and looked up at the moon, as if it had answers.

‘What are you looking at?’ he sneered at its silent face, before disappearing into the shadows and returning inside to find the others. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry-not really-kinda-everyone okay after reading that-...?
> 
> All characters with an asterisk * next to them require a name, which is why I've kept a lot of the descriptions surrounding them vague. Jack O'Lantern is one of the few who is practically complete in regards to characters design and development, including a back story and personality.
> 
> I don't know Seraphina's actual eye colour, and I didn't want to make her resemble Pitch too closely so I made it up. I apologise if I've messed up on a lot of details, I get my information from the RotG.wikia page and obviously from the movie so I still find things linking them to be a bit vague and confusing.
> 
> Finally, I deliberately didn't write any of the lyrics to the song they are dancing to because I was torn between a couple of songs:
> 
> Steven Curtus Chapman - Cinderella: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nw-q6eeoP5o
> 
> Faith Hill - There You'll Be: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=piYjuLuVBrU
> 
> Jordan Hill - Remember Me This Way: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TiC9LIVC1PQ
> 
> Decide for yourselves if you wish, which one best suits the situation.


End file.
